Random Strangers
by Fred the Wraith
Summary: People meet in unlikely places - series of one-shots - crossover fic with NCIS and Stargate SG1
1. Members of the Flock

_AN: I was reading some of the work of WritinginCT and completely fell in love with the Stargate/NCIS cross-overs (in particular 'She's Finally Safe and Sound') and felt inspired to try my own cross-over series. This will be a series of one-shots of various characters from both 'verses and the situations that might have them meeting._

_Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, Stargate SG1, or Stargate Atlantis. I have just borrowed the characters to play with. I promise to put them back neatly when I have finished with them._

**Members of the Flock**

The one thing that Ducky had mostly regretted about his life of eternal bachelorhood was the fact that he had never had children. The fact that there would never be a young daughter demanding styling tips from Auntie Abigail, or a son begging to borrow the Morgan to take his date to the prom caused an ache in his chest that no prescription could ease.

This, however, didn't stop him from showering affection over the multitudes of offspring that various cousins, second cousins and other assorted relatives had produced. And while Ducky had never been the type of person to show favorites with anyone (with all of the many differences in the people of the world, who could choose!), in the case of his nephews and nieces, the son of his second cousin (or was it his third cousin?) Adele stood out.

It wasn't that young Carson had followed his "Uncle Ducky" into the wonderful world of medicine, but rather, it was the type of person that he had become that Ducky admired. Having to help his mother from a young age following the tragic passing of his father, the fact that he did so with a caring and happy heart, and with an inexhaustible sense of humor endeared him to Ducky. And when the chance came for him to expand his life experiences by working in Antarctica, Ducky had no qualms in offering to check in on Adele and make sure that she was well.

The correspondence from Carson while he was away had always been a little sporadic, and for a while had stopped completely, but when Adele had received a disc with a recorded message on it from Carson the first person she had shared it with was Ducky. While watching the recording with her (and at the same time agreeing with her that letter writing was a dying art) he couldn't help but feel pride. Pride not only at the love expressed by the young man, but also at the maturity gained from his unknown experiences.

That recording was almost worn out now. It, along with several other recordings received in the following months, were taken out and played at least once a week from the time when the silver-haired General in Airforce dress blues had knocked on the door bearing tragic news. Ducky accepted that the circumstances surrounding his nephew's demise were classified, but the fact that there was no body for the family to mourn over was a cruel blow.

So now, whilst Ducky and Adele sat in a darkened room, once again watching the caring young man tell his mother how much he loved her, Ducky was happy he had no children.

For while his might never know the joy of a toddler's enthusiastic hug, or get to escort a daughter down the aisle, he would also never have to experience the sheer agony that a parent feels when their child is taken before their time.

TBC

_AN: Hope you enjoyed, sorry if it was slightly depressing, and remember – reviews are love! The next chapter will be Gibbs encountering McKay (should be interesting!)_


	2. Conversations & Hazelnut shots

_AN: And here we have the meeting of the coffee addicts. Who will survive!?!_

**Conversations and Hazelnut Shots **

****

For Leroy Jethro Gibbs there were several constants in this world.

If it looked like suicide, it never was.

Ducky would have a story for every occasion

Good coffee was a necessity, not a luxury.

So upon finding himself in a highly unwanted situation (namely, the Investigative Services conference in Las Vegas), the first thing he did was locate the nearest coffee shop. The second thing he did was order the strongest brew he could get ("Do you want sugar with that?" "No" "Milk?" "No" "Hazelnut or Chocolate shot?" "Dammit, do you people ever make just plain coffee?!?" "Not very often sir."). The third thing he did while waiting for his order was to watch the crowd, picking up on the little details where he could.

The two college kids sitting at the table (English Literature judging by the textbooks).

The young exec looking at his watch (tan line on the ring finger – recently separated).

The girl dressed like Abby mouthing along to a song on her Ipod (reading her lips, he picked up something about Barbie's and Life in Plastic – huh).

The guy trying to yell into his cellphone and place his order at the same time.

"I'll have the largest size coffee…no don't do that, you might reverse the polarity and end up blowing up half the planet!…hang on…yes, just coffee, nothing extra."

(He looked to be in his thirties, the hairline giving proof.)

"Have you tried the diagnostic program…no, I don't want hazelnut! And if you dare put anything citrus even near my coffee there will be repercussions!"

(Obviously some sort of engineer or tech going by the conversation, but he looked to be in reasonably good physical shape.)

"Look, just put it in stasis until I get there. Yes, I am talking to you! Do you seriously thing that cretins in this coffee shack would have anything remotely resembling stasis chambers!"

(No patience. None at all.)

"I will be there in 30 minutes, barring any hidden incompetence in the staff of this …place. Don't screw anything up before I get there!"

As he disconnected the call Gibbs could just make out the faintly muttered "…never thought I would miss Wraith invasions. Best posting I could have on Earth and here I am surrounded by idiots and yes-men. God I miss Radek. He would know…"

But before Gibbs could listen in any further on what was turning out to be a fairly interesting diatribe, his attention was called to the young lady holding his order. As he left the shop, he couldn't help but wonder.

'Was he really serious about blowing up half the planet?'

**TBC.**

_AN: I wanted to include a section that went along the lines of:_

"_Meredith? Your parents actually called you Meredith?"_

"_Look who's talking Leroy Jethro!"_

_But I couldn't seem to work it into the scene. Oh well. Coming up next: Abby encounters T'ealc!_


	3. Comparing Markings

**Comparing Markings**

After the rather disastrous Appropriations Committee meeting where Vala Mal Doran had made such an impression on the committee members, Teal'c had found himself at a loose end for the evening. Samantha Carter and Cameron Mitchell were catching up with some old Air Force friends; General Landry had meetings all evening and Vala Mal Doran had demanded that Daniel Jackson take her out to dinner. So upon finding that he would have to fend for himself, Teal'c did what every member of the male species (human or Jaffa alike) does in these circumstances.

He looked for the nearest takeout meal.

Upon placing his order, Teal'c would have been quite content to sit inside the pizza parlour and await the delivery of his food, had it not been for the strange man who had sat down next to him and immediately started accusing him of stealing his time machine. Now whilst Teal'c knew full well that time travel was possible and, indeed, had happened to himself in the past, he somehow doubted that the man sitting next to him dressed in a shabby coat and smelling of incontinent felines would have the necessary technology. This necessitated his departure from the pizza parlour to the less feline-smelling air of outside. As he gratefully inhaled the fresh air, Teal'c wondered at the peaceful atmosphere of the normally hurried and frantic city. That was, at least, until he was bowled over by two kamikaze bike messengers.

"…don't you look where you're going next time morons! Oh my God, are you OK? Do you have a concussion? How many fingers am I holding up? Where did you get that cool tattoo?"

As reality gradually swam back into focus, Teal'c discovered himself lying on the footpath with a young lady crouched over him, waving three fingers in the general vicinity of his face.

"I mean, that is seriously cool! Is it a special type of branding? Or is it implanted under the skin? What does it mean?"

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts and check his surroundings, he was able to get a better look at his rescuer. She was tall, of similar height to Samantha Carter, but her hair was long and black, tied up in the pigtails that Vala Mal Doran favoured. Also noticeable was the spider-web tattoo crawling up her neck and the metal studded necklace she wore. He briefly wondered if it was a costume until he decided that she was too unselfconscious to be wearing anything other than her everyday clothing.

"Who are you? And what has happened."

"You speak! I am Abigail Sciuto, but call me Abby, and what happened is that you had a near-death experience of the bike messenger kind. Are you OK? You hit the ground really hard."

Teal'c slowly sat up, holding a hand to his head in order to make sure that it would stay on his neck. The same hand discovered that his all-disguising beanie had been dislodged.

"I believe I am fine. There is no dizziness and I am fully aware of where and when I am."

"Great! So, do you have a name or do I get to name you because I'm thinking that you look like a Bob. Or maybe a Pete."

"I am called Murray."

"Seriously? Murray?"

"Indeed."

"My Aunt Delores has a cat called Murray! He's an evil thing that keeps on trying to scratch me all the time. So far you are nothing like him, so therefore I will call you Bob."

Hiding a small smile as he managed to stand up, Teal'c marvelled at Abigail Sciuto's thought processes.

"As you wish. I am feeling much better now. Have you seen my beanie?"

"Oh, sure, here it is. Though I don't know why you want to cover up your tattoo. It is so cool! What does it mean?"

"It was forced on me as a young adult as a symbol of ownership and slavery. Though I am now free and have come to accept the mark, I will never be proud to wear it."

"Bummer."

"Indeed."

"Kinda puts my tattoos into perspective. I was thinking about getting another one. I saw this really cool Hindu goddess, but it didn't feel like it was the right tattoo for me and besides, I just don't have enough space to do her justice."

"May I inquire as to why you choose to adorn yourself in such a manner?"

While this question normally annoyed the living…snot…out of Abby, she could sense the sincere interest and lack of condemnation behind the question.

"Sure you can! To me, my tattoos are a part of myself that I wasn't born with, so I had to add them later. They are a part of my personality and each of them have a story behind them. They just help add on to who I am."

"Might I make a suggestion? Where I come from the various…tribes have symbols. There is a certain tribe, the Tau'ri, whose symbol has come to represent strength, dedication, and kindness to friends. From what I saw tonight, I feel that you embody the ideals that this symbol represents. Their symbol is very similar to this."

As the dark skinned man pulled out a notepad and quickly sketched what looked like an inverted V with a small circle at the top, Abby was intrigued. The simplicity of the design struck a chord within her, and she could easily picture it situated…never you mind exactly where, but it would look good.

"I like it, I really like it but do you think that these …Tau'ri?… people would mind if I used it? They wouldn't be offended?"

"Abigail Sciuto, I believe that they would be proud that you bear their symbol."

"Oh that is so sweet!" and Abby, being the impulsive and friendly person that she is, proceeded to hug him.

And then proceeded to remember that she was hugging a strange guy with a funky tattoo in the middle of the sidewalk outside a fast-food restaurant.

"Oh! Oh my God, I am so sorry! It's just that I am a hugging person, and I know that the Red Light/Green Light lady said that I am supposed to ask permission first, but that just seems stupid and it takes up too much time and Gibbs said that I don't have to ask permission, but he is biased because he likes my hugs and…I'll just stop now. Sorry."

For a small moment it looked like a smile might appear on the stoic mans face, but it was quickly contained and Murray (but to Abby, he would always be Bob) replied:

"That is perfectly alright Abigail Sciuto. While I must admit I am not comfortable receiving physical affection from someone not of my family, I must also admit that your hug was…acceptable."

"Hey! I'll have you know I give great hugs. Just ask anyone!"

While this strange conversation could have undoubtedly continued for some time, it was interrupted by a voice coming from the pizzeria announcing "Mr Murray? Your order is ready."

"It appears that my meal is prepared."

"I should let you get your dinner. Well, thanks for the assistance, and thanks for the great tattoo idea. I am definitely going to get it done."

"I am pleased that you have chosen that symbol."

"Do you want me to send you a picture when it's done? It'll probably be edited a little, but I want you to see it! Do you have an email address?"

"Indeed, I will write it down for you."

"'bigguy-jaffa'? Who chose that name for you 'cause I can't see you picking that one for yourself!"

"It was chosen by a friend. He finds it humorous."

"You have strange friends."

"Indeed."

"Well, I have to go as well. I will send you the picture when I get it done. And thanks again for the idea!"

As he watched her skip off down the street, Teal'c couldn't help but think that he might have found a new friend in Abigail Sciuto.

And as Abby skipped down the aforementioned street, she couldn't wait to get back to her lab and run a trace on his email address. Because as much as she had liked him something about 'Murray' had set off her internal Hinky-O-Meter and, after the whole 'Chip' incident, she had come to trust it implicitly.

Wonder what will turn up?

**TBC**

_AN: Can you just picture Abby trying to hug Teal'c? I did and it made me giggle for 5 minutes non-stop! Thanks to everyone for the fab reviews (especially the feedback on the unincorporated section – I tried, I really tried to fit it in!)._

_Coming up next: Jack and Kate – angst warning!_


	4. Nice Shoes

_AN: As warned at the end of the previous chapter, there is angst below. But please do not blame me as it was the Great and Powerful Belisario who did it!_

_Disclaimer: still own nothing._

**Nice Shoes**

Jack could always tell the Secret Service apart from the rest because of their shoes. The politicians wore top class designer label shoes. The aides wore top class designer knock-off shoes. The military advisors (himself included, unfortunately) wore the highly polished dress shoes required of the uniform. But the Secret Service, they were special. They didn't wear the fancy loafers or the shiny dress shoes. Their shoes were practical, functional. They were comfortable enough to be able to run for mile in, but wouldn't look horribly out of place at a formal function.

Which is why he was surprised upon meeting Agent Kate Todd and discovering that she was wearing boots with a slight heel.

After his meeting with the President on board Air Force One, Jack found himself sitting next to Agent Todd, and his natural curiosity couldn't be contained (not that he even tried).

"Agent Todd?"

"Yes sir?"

"I need to ask you about your …shoes."

Jack was sure that the look on her face was one that he would remember for a while.

"…My shoes, sir?"

"They appear to be non-regulation, Agent Todd."

The confusion in her eyes diminished slightly, but was definitely still there.

"Sir, the Secret Service doesn't have regulation shoes."

"Oh you know what I mean! You can't possibly chase down would be assassins in those. You'd break your ankle!"

The confusion was now gone and a hint of smugness started to appear.

"Well, thank you for your concern sir, but I can run perfectly fine in these, I've had plenty of practice over the years. Besides sir, these are my favourites."

"Because of the pretty stitching?"

The smugness was strong and now Jack was worried.

"No sir, because of the steel caps. Makes it easier to kick those would be assassins in their …weak spots."

At this Jack burst out laughing and wasn't able to stop for a while.

As they disembarked from Air Force One, Jack turned to Kate and handed her a small piece of card. "If you ever get sick of the Secret Service, give me a call. I'm pretty sure we would have a position for someone with your skills. And your shoes."

"Thank you sir, but I should probably tell you that Deep Space Telemetry doesn't really seem like my kind of thing."

"You might be surprised Agent Todd, you might be surprised."

He saw her several times after that, most of the time on Air Force One, but he spotted her a couple of times around the White House, and once at a diplomatic function. Each and every time he greeted her with "Nice shoes!" and the standard farewell from him would be "If you ever get sick of the Secret Service…" to which she would laugh and reply "Deep Space Telemetry – not my thing, sir!"

……….

It took him a month or two, but he noticed that he hadn't seen her around recently. When he asked after her, he was told that she was now working for NCIS after an incident that had resulted in her being 'released' from her position in the Secret Service. Muttering under his breath at the bureaucracy and stupidity of the Service, Jack promptly emailed Kate at her new job demanding to know why she hadn't contacted him. Her reply was along the lines of the fact that she now got to catch the bad guys as well as put her shoes to good use.

Her next email was to express her surprise and appreciation for the new pair of steel capped boots that had appeared on her desk (and also adding something about them being nicer than the pair that her new boss had given her on her first day).

They had stayed in touch over the next two years, not being best friends, but staying strong acquaintances. She would send him character sketches of her new work mates, and all of his emails would end with "If you ever get sick of NCIS…"

But she never got the chance to get sick of it and now here he was, standing at the rear of a group of mourners gathered around a gravesite. He could identify her work mates easily, not just from the character sketches that she had sent, nor from the black bands displayed across their Agency badges. It was the look of loss in their eyes, the look that said she had not just been a team-mate, but had been a friend and family member also. A look that he well remembered.

And as they left the cemetery accompanied by the upbeat jazz tune (something he was absolutely certain that Kate would have loved), Jack stepped up to the casket and laid his rose to rest, around the stem of which was wrapped a charm bracelet with a single charm.

A tiny pair of boots.

**TBC**

_AN: OK, have to admit that neither Kate or Jack are my favourite character in either verse so I had kinda a hard time writing this. Oh well, hopefully will have better luck with McGee and Sam in the next chapter!_


	5. Job Offers

_Disclaimer: still own nothing._

**Job Offers**

Timothy McGee was not an arrogant person.

Sure, he had his pride, and even he would admit that he was prone to showing off his new toys and gadgets, but he knew that he was good at this job and what's more, he knew that others knew. He just never felt the need to boast about it. Over the years he had been approached no less that seven times with outside job offers (admittedly, one of them had been from Ducky's mom, and the job description was a little…vague, but it was still valid).

The first offer had come from Bathesda after the case involving the death of Petty Officer Lambert. They had been impressed by the work he had done and had offered him a position that seemed perfectly suited to his skills. Uncertain of what to do, he had asked his team-mates for advice and had received mixed results. Kate's comment of 'Follow your head' directly contradicted Ducky's one of 'Follow your heart'. Abby's reply had been along the lines of 'Don't you dare leave! I just broke you in and I don't want to have to train up someone new!' and McGee didn't even try to approach Gibbs for fear of the inevitable head-slap.

Surprisingly, it was Tony who had provided him with an answer. After first acting amazed that anyone would want to hire McGee and then spending the next fifteen minutes boasting about the various job offers that he had received, DiNozzo's real answer - when it finally arrived – was simple. 'Don't think about the money, or the title, or even the responsibility. And definitely don't worry about leaving the team, because you are stuck with us no matter what job you end up doing. Ask yourself one thing, Probie. Have you learnt everything here that you need to learn?'

After pondering his words, McGee went back to Bathesda with a very polite 'Thanks, but no thanks. I'm very happy where I am.' For each of thesubsequent job offers over the coming years, the answer had been the same (except for Mrs Mallard's, where he had asked if there had been a uniform involved). But this latest offer was different, and at first he couldn't place why.

It wasn't the confidentiality clause and not knowing the full job details (those had appeared in offers 3 and 5). Nor was it the attractiveness of the person presenting it (offers 2, 4 and 5). It wasn't even the possibility of really cool gadgetry (offers 1, 4, 6 and 7 - 7 being Mrs Mallard). He thought about it for a bit longer and realised that it was the way that she spoke of her work. The look in her eyes telling of the affection that she held for her co-workers. The way her hands would gesture when she was describing something, and then still when she reached something classified. Tim realised that she truly loved what she did, and this gave him the courage to speak plainly to the blond woman in the Airforce blues across the café table from him.

"Colonel Carter, may I be blunt?"

Though obviously slightly surprised at being interrupted, Sam replied in the affirmative and gestured for him to proceed.

"Ma'am, it is highly unlikely that I will accept the position you are offering."

The look of surprise deepened and she leaned forward slightly, looking directly into his eyes.

"May I ask why?"

"It has nothing to do with the money or the work, Colonel Carter. It has to do with me. Do you know the term 'Probie' ma'am?"

"Of course Agent McGee. What does this have to do with your decision?"

"Well ma'am, when I first joined my team, I was the Probie. I had lots to learn and many mistakes to make. Over time the rest of the team has stopped calling me Probie…well, most of them have. But the thing is, I still call myself Probie, and until I stop doing that, I still have things to learn in my job. I am honoured that you have approached me to work for NORAD on your project, but I feel that I need to stay where I currently am, with NCIS. Does that make sense?"

Smiling slightly, Sam seemed to think for a second or two and then replied. "Yes, Agent McGee, it does. And thank you for letting me know immediately. As much as we would have appreciated having you with us, you have to do what's best for you. But please, hold onto my card and feel free to get in touch if your situation changes.

"Thank you Colonel Carter. If that is all, I really should be getting back to the office. I don't really trust DiNozzo around my computer unsupervised."

"Oh believe me, I know exactly what you mean. But before you go there is…um…well, there is one more thing."

"Ma'am?"

"Well…this is awkward. The background check that we ran prior to approaching you…turned up something."

The panicked look on McGee's face was memorable.

"Is this the 'Elflord' thing ma'am, because that is just for fun. I am not obsessed!"

"No, not that. It's abou…Elflord??"

"Never mind ma'am, please carry on with what you were saying."

"Well, when he found out that I was meeting you, one of my work mates called in a favour that I owed and …I…um…God this is embarrassing. Can you sign my friends' copy of your book?"

The look of sudden comprehension was almost as memorable as the panicked look.

"Okay. Wasn't expecting that."

"I know, I'm sorry, but he overheard about the meeting – I swear he had the ears of a bat – and I do owe him for all that we've put him through so…"

"Sure, no problem. Do you have a pen?"

"Here, if you could make it out to Silar? That's S I L…"

As her eyes lit up with happiness over the fact that the question was asked with the minimum of embarrassment, McGee almost regretted turning down the position. Almost.

**TBC**

_AN: Crud! Sam and McGee were almost a hard as Kate and Jack! That's it, from now on, I assume nothing about writing characters! Up next: the history of Jenny and Elizabeth_


	6. Ruling the World

**Ruling the World**

For most people the sense of smell is what brings back the strongest memories. Freshly made popcorn summons the image of a first date. Just mown grass would show a flush of a summer's day. A certain perfume reminds of a mother's hug.

But for Jenny it wasn't smells that brought back the strongest memories, it was sights.

A glimpse of a Twinkie wrapper and she remembers her younger cousin John's third birthday party. To this day she cannot stand red jello.

A photo of the Eiffel Tower and she is standing on a street corner in Paris watching Jethro being bundled into a cop car. They both knew that it had to happen that way, but for her the guilt still bites.

And every time she notices Australia on the map in MTAC, she would smirk and remember a mediator, a dog, anda veryinteresting bitchingsessionin a bar in Brussels.

………………

It had been one of those diplomatic negotiations that never make the evening news. She had been sent along as a protective escort for a Navy Admiral who officially was in the area for a 'Recuperative Holiday'. Unofficially, he was there to try to settle a conflict with another countries representatives (who were most likely on a 'Holiday' of their own). The meeting had been tense from the start and even Jenny could tell that it would fall through, no matter what the young female mediator tried to sort out. Every time Dr Elizabeth Weir had put forward a suggestion, it had been quickly shot down by one side or the other. 

Therefore, it was no surprise that the talks broke down. It was also no surprise when Jenny returned from escorting the Admiral to the airport and discovered the mediator nursing a beer in the hotel bar.

"Hi there, mind if I join you…Elizabeth, right?"

"Sure, no problem. Pull up a seat and join me in my misery. There's plenty to go around."

Motioning for the bartender to bring her a beer of her own, Jenny slid into the booth seat across from Elizabeth and smiled sympathetically at her. "First negotiation gone bad?"

"Yep."

"Feeling horribly guilty and slightly useless?"

"Yep."

"Want another drink?"

"Yep."

"Fair enough."

……………

"…I mean, is it a guy thing, or is it a diplomat thing, because they just won't agree to sensible terms! They're just like kids fighting over who gets the best toy from the toybox. They accept that the blocks are fun, but they all want the fire truck that lights up and has asiren. Men! They shouldn't be allowed to run a country!"

The conversation had started out by going through the usual topics. Whattheir roles were. How they got started in their jobs. Just how ugly the bartender's tie was. But because they were both female and both had suffered through a bad meeting, it had quickly degenerated into an all-out bitching session.

"Yep, agree with you there. Not allowed to run a country. Never."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up with a sudden and most profound realisation.

"You know, we could run a country. Heck, we could rule the world!"

"We could?"

"Yeah, we could! I could talk everyone around into doing what we want, and I'm sure that you can be scary enough to intimidate the sceptics."

"I can be very scary. Everyone says so."

It was true. She had made a Marine cry last week. It had been fun.

"How scary? Because you need to be really scary to rule the world. Can you kill a person eight different ways using…using…using this shot glass?"

Jenny focussed on the proffered shot glass and pondered the scenario before her.

"Nope, can only think of six ways."

"Hmmm, not as scary as eight, but still pretty scary."

"Thanks. Okay, so we take over the world. What then? Are you the big boss, or am I? Or do we just divide it in half? We kind of need to sort this out before we take over the world. Wouldn't look good if we were trying to sort it out after. Too unprofessional."

"Good point. Split in half sounds good. You can take Europe and Africa, and I'll have North & South America. We can probably time-share on Asia."

"What about Australia?"

"Sedge gets Australia."

The confusion took a couple of seconds to arrive in Jenny's brain, having been distracted by the logistics behind time-sharing a continent.

"Okay. Who's Sedge?"

"My dog. He needs lots of space to run around. And he'll get to chase kangaroos. He'd like that."

"How will your dog run Australia. Will it be a dictatorship, or will it end up being a giant hippie commune?"

The sudden spinning of the room put an end to any possibly intelligent answer.

"Okay. I think I've had one too many beersto think about this properly. Can we keep planning world domination tomorrow?"

"Yeah. My bed is calling, and I think I just remembered I have to leave tomorrow. Have to be in …somewhere else. Thanks for the company."

"You too.And for making sure I didn't get too depressed. Really appreciate that."

As they bothmade their way down the hotel corridor in order to reach their rooms, Elizabeth called out one last thing.

"Remember – Australia belongs to Sedge! Hands off!"

And they both collapsed giggling through their respective doors, knowing that tomorrow they would undoubtedly regret drinking so late at night. Butright now they really didn't care. They had plans to take over the world - everything else was inconsequential.

**TBC**

_AN: Okay, it is late and I am probably too tired to be writing this, but it popped into my head and hey - tipsy leaders – always fun! Australia belonging to the dog is from the book 'Good Omens' by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman – my favourite book in the world. Next up Daniel and Vala meet Palmer and Lee._


	7. Switching Weapons from the Arsenal

_Disclaimer: Own nothing. It's rather depressing really._

_AN: Sorry about the delay in updating but Real Life has interfered and left me with too little time. Sigh._

**Switching Weapons from the Arsenal**

Michelle Lee was happy.

No, check that. Michelle Lee was ecstatic.

After several months of random sex wherever and whenever they could manage it, Jimmy Palmer had finally asked Michelle out on a proper date. Not a quickie in a supply closet, nor meeting their friends and work mates at the local pub for a drink, but an actual date at a restaurant. A date where the two of them could openly act like the couple in love that they are, and not worry about the wrath of their respective bosses coming down upon their heads.

It had started out awkwardly, with a little bit of nervous silence while waiting for their entrees to arrive, but that had quickly disappeared after Jimmy had accidentally knocked over his water glass, and while trying to mop up the resulting mess, both of them had burst into laughter. From then on, the date was much more comfortable.

They had talked about work, life and the necessity of keeping extra underwear in their gym bags, and now that the dessert had been consumed and the coffee drunk, the couple was ready to leave the restaurant. So while Jimmy settled the bill and called for a cab, Michelle quickly excused herself to the ladies room.

She had no idea that she was going to help change someone's life.

Hopefully for the better.

sgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsgsg

Vala Mal Doran was annoyed.

No, check that. Vala Mal Doran was royally pissed off.

You would think that kissing a guy whilst trying to hijack his spaceship would give him an idea. Handcuffing yourself to him in a potentially fatal manner should be a hint. Joining his team, fighting by his side, helping save his planet (several times and without a hint of treasure!), and flirting with him non-stop for _two entire years_ might just give him the tiniest hint that she had feelings for him.

But it turns out that Daniel Jackson was a special type of oblivious. The kind that could spot the slightest variation in a long-dead engraving, but could not notice that a young, attractive and (at least Vala thought so) sexy female was ready and willing to jump his bones at the slightest opportunity. It was almost enough to make a girl scream.

But seeing as she was sitting opposite Daniel at a small table in a fairly intimate restaurant, listening to him go on…and on…and on …about the tablet that SG-4 had picked up on a tiny moon somewhere, she instead excused herself to the ladies room.

Where she proceeded to close the door, cover her face with her hands and scream.

"Are you okay?"

Quickly spinning around at the quietly voiced question, Vala faced the tiny Asian girl who was exiting one of the stalls, and started babbling.

"Oh! I'm fine. Really, I'm fine! Just a touch of …indigestion. Yes, indigestion!"

"Are you sure, you seem kind of …annoyed."

Vala recognised the girl as having being seated a couple of tables from her and Daniel. The man she had been with was tall and lanky with glasses similar to Daniel's, but he had a sweet and naïve look to him. Vala hadn't been sure whether to be envious or nauseated by the almost tangible aura of happiness that had surrounded their table. But the girl was waiting for an answer to her question, and she quickly responded.

"No, no, just indigestion."

"Okay."

There was blatant disbelief in her voice as the other girl carefully edged past Vala in order to wash her hands in the nearby sink. Vala knew that her lie was obvious (her inner Space Pirate was almost crying at the stupidity of it), and all of a sudden Vala felt the need to rant. So she did.

"You know what, it isn't indigestion! It's him! I mean, I know that men are supposed to be clueless in matters of the heart, but this is ridiculous! I have been in love with him for so long and he has no idea! The fungus on one of Dr Lee's Petrie dishes would notice before he ever does!"

And with the rant concluded, Vala sank down onto the handy couch provided in the restaurant's ladies room, and promptly burst into tears.

As the cushion next to her sank under the weight of the slight girl, Vala managed to control her crying, restraining herself to a couple of sniffles and one rather unladylike snort.

"If he causes you that much pain, is he really worth it?"

Wiping her eyes, Vala smiled ruefully at the girl and replied. "I start to think that, and then I'll watch his eyes light up when he solves a puzzle, or I'll see him smile when he's joking with our friends. And when…when he's arguing with someone, he has such fire and passion I just…"

Trailing off helplessly, Vala shrugged and could only hope that she made any kind of sense.

"Have you tried telling him how you feel?"

"Of course I have! I have flirted. I have smiled. I have waited in his bed wearing a rather nice underwear set! But because of the way we met, he doesn't believe that I am serious. You make a couple of mistakes in your early relationship, and he just doesn't forget. It is completely unfair."

"How did you meet?"

"…I tried to steal his…vehicle."

"…What?"

"Okay, in my defence, I did need it for a really good reason. And, I didn't get away with it! But now we work together, and even though I have changed, he still sees me as the person I was."

"Do you still act like the person you were?"

Vala ducked her head to avoid eye contact and shyly admitted. "…Only when the situation calls for it."

"Have you tried acting differently?"

"The way I act always works! He's just being stubborn!"

"Well, to quote my grandmother, 'When your main weapon is no longer functional, switch weapons from your arsenal'".

There was a moment of silence as Vala tried to wrap her head around the statement.

"…Your grandmother said that?"

"Well, family rumour says that she was a spy during World War Two, but she has never confirmed or denied it. She does keep on recieving mail addressed to 'White Rose' from someone called 'Grey Stag' and I once saw her fix her refrigerator using a pair of pantyhose and three hairpins, so I'm inclined to believe it."

"And I thought my family was strange."

The girl smiled at Vala's response, but quickly settled back into a serious look.

"From what I can tell, he treats you the same because you act the same. Try to act a little differently – less flirting and more honesty. But not too much though, you don't want to change too much of who you are."

Any further conversation was interrupted by quiet knocking, followed by a muffled voice asking "Vala, is everything okay in there? You've been gone for a while and I wasn't sure if I should call out the search parties after what happened last time. Oh, and a guy called Jimmy wants to know if Michelle is in there with you. Apparently their cab has arrived."

"I'm fine Daniel, I'll be out soon."

"Okay, I'll be back at the table."

As the sounds of his footsteps faded away, Vala turned to the girl (who she presumed was Michelle) and smiled. "Thank you for listening. I know that I must sound absolutely wonko, but you really helped. Go back to your date, I'll be fine."

"If you're sure. But hey, he was worried enough about you to come looking for you. That should tell you something."

"Well, since the last time we went out to dinner I was kidnapped, it probably doesn't mean as much as you think."

"Kidnapped?"

Vala smirked at the young girl, thinking about all that she had done in her time.

"I lead a very strange life that you will probably never understand."

"I know about strange. The first time Jimmy and I slept together, it was on the examination table of a morgue with a dead body two tables over."

The smirk was gone from Vala's face, replaced by a look of shock, underlain by a hint of admiration.

"…Okay, maybe you might understand."

**TBC**

_AN: So many things I wanted to do with this chapter, and I just couldn't fit them in. I know that Agent Lee is slightly OOC, but quite frankly, we see so little of her on the show and she must have more than the 'timid little lamb' personality (as evidenced by her actions in ep 4.8 'Once a Hero'). Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for DiNozzo and Sheppard in the next chapter!_


	8. Possibility of a Criminal History

_AN1: Full thanks and inspiration for this chapter must go to the wonderful, intelligent, brilliant Trecebo (the possibilities!!). I was stuck on a story point and at just the right time, Trecebo swooped down in order to impart advice and inspiration - I was left in awe. It is muchly appreciated. And now, on with the story!_

**Possibility of a Criminal History**

As the entire NCIS team had learnt over the years, a bored Tony DiNozzo was a dangerous Tony DiNozzo. So when he started tapping his fingers and whistling through his teeth while waiting for the Colorado Springs Lab Tech to finish processing the evidence for their current case, Gibbs promptly banished him from the lab with orders to simply 'Go somewhere else!'

Which is why he could be currently found prowling the aisles of the local DVD store to see if there was anything he could add to his already impressive collection. He had a copy of 'Saving Private Ryan' in his hands, and was debating over whether he could get 'Love, Actually' without subsequent mockery from McGee and Ziva, when he caught sight of someone who looked vaguely familiar.

As Tony neared the guy, he ran through the possible places that he might have seen him before. The haircut was definitely not Marine standard so it ruled out that option, but it did look …eerily similar to his own. The guy looked like he was about the same age as Tony so maybe they had been in school together, but that theory didn't seem right. Just as Tony's curiosity reached the point where he had to approach the guy and ask, the stranger caught the attention of one of the store clerks and asked the question feared by retail employees everywhere.

"I got sent to grab some movies for my friends, can you recommend something for me?"

The polite smile froze on the store-girls' face and Tony could sense the annoyance and frustration bubbling just below the surface. The girl knew that recommending something was always difficult, due to individual tastes, and that it was always almost impossible to buy something for someone else that they would enjoy (as evidenced by the number of Boxing Day returns they got each year). But since she couldn't call the customer an idiot to his face without being fired, she replied the only way she was able to. "Do you know the kind of movies your friends like?"

"Well, McKay and Zelenka like the ones where they can poke holes in the scientific theory. Keller likes the romantic comedies, while Teyla prefers the political thrillers, though personally I think she is just in it for the popcorn. Cadman is addicted to musicals and Ronon just wants one with lots of explosions. Oh, and Carter wants the latest season of something called 'House, M.D.', whatever that is. Do you have it in store?"

The politeness was gone from the store-girls' features, and wild panic had set up residence in its absence.

"Well sir, we have copies of House, but for the others…I guess…um…you can try…well…"

Tony felt sorry for the poor girl who had obviously been dropped in the deep end of customer service pool. Therefore he decided to be helpful by interrupting and offering his wise and sage advice.

"For the geeks, you probably want 'The Core'. Enough science to make the Average Joe's head explode, but still a couple of decent laughs. Romatic comedy is 'French Kiss' – Kevin Kline rocks – and for the political thriller, try 'The Pelican Brief'. Not Julia Robert's best work, but a great storyline. For the musicals, you can pick from either 'Chicago' or 'Singing in the Rain', both are classics. As for Explosives Guy, 'Con Air' has some of the best and also has John Malkovich playing the bad guy – enough said. But if you want one move that covers as many of the genres as possible, try 'Serenity'. It has all of them except for musical, and Joss Whedon is a genius."

The gratitude radiated from the shop-girl and with an almost blinding smile, she exclaimed "Thanks mister! I'll go look for the movies for you sir." And with that, she scurried away to the stock room to look for the mentioned DVD's.

With a slightly perplexed look on his face at the speed of the events surrounding him, the stranger turned to Tony and gave him a strange sort of half-smile.

"Uh, thanks for that…"

"Tony, Tony DiNozzo. And hey, glad I can help. By the way, you look really familiar. Have I arrested you before?"

The half-smile became cautious.

"Okaaay, now that's an original pick up line, but …you're not really my type."

"What? No, I wasn't hitting on you! I used to be a cop. Seriously, did I ever arrest you?"

The half-smile was now gone and caution reigned supreme.

"Were you based in San Diego?"

"Nope, Baltimore."

"Then I can safely say I was never arrested by you."

Tony was disappointed that the most obvious option was now out, but felt the need to place exactly where he had previously seen this guy.

"I guess, but I know I have seen you somewhere before."

"Sorry, I'm pretty sure we haven't met. Mind you, your hair is …familiar."

"I was thinking that earlier. I would say we go to the same barber, but I'm based in Washington DC…"

"So that's not it.

"Guess not. Well, hope your friends enjoy their DVD's…hey, you didn't tell me your name."

"It's John. John Sheppard."

Realisation dawned at the mention of John's surname.

"Sheppard? Any relation to NCIS Director Jenny Sheppard?"

"She made Director now? Man, I am out of the loop! She's my cousin."

"That's where I saw you! She has a photo of the two of you behind her desk. I was sure you were her…never mind."

Just then the store clerk returned, her arms loaded down with the suggested DVD's. "Here are the ones he recommended. Do you want to go through them?"

"Nah, I'll just take them all. I'll be up to the counter soon to pay for them all."

Turning to face Tony, John smiled that half-smile again and extended his had for shaking. "Thanks for all the help. These places tend to intimidate me a little. Too many strange people work in these stores, and believe me, I've had enough strangeness in my life."

"Yeah, you kind of need to know how to speak the lingo. Glad I could translate…hang on."

Fishing his ringing cellphone out of his pocket, Tony flipped it open and listened to McGee's voice filtering through the handset. "What? When did…does Gibbs?…Okay, I'm on my way in. Just don't screw up anything before I get there, Probie."

Closing the phone, Tony turned back to John with an apologetic look. "Got to go, the boss has summoned my presence."

"No problem, and thanks again for the help. Any hey, I'm going to be away for a while so take care of Jenny for me. Don't let her work too hard. If you need to, threaten her with red Jello. She'll run screaming."

"…Red Jello?"

"Yeah. Fifth birthday party. Very long story. Probably shouldn't go into it."

"Sounds like that might be a good idea. See you around sometime."

As Tony left the store he wondered if the sarcastic streak was somehow genetic.

Then he swore as he set off the store security alarms with the DVD's he unknowingly still held in his hand.

"Crap."

**TBC**

_AN2: Okay, okay, I must confess something. In an act of shameless ego-stroking, the shop clerk…is me. I know that you are not supposed to do that, but after three years of working in a music store and having people ask you to recommend something for a 12-year-old boy when they have no idea what kind of music they like…lets just say that the customer service industry can be hell. Now that the mini-rant is over, the next chapter will be a surprise (mainly because I am not entirely sure exactly how it will work out). See you then (and thanks again Trecebo!)._


	9. Driving Lessons Physics Style

_AN1: Okay, okay, sorry about the delay but it's here now!_

_Disclaimer: Don't own them. Really. No, seriously, I don't!_

_This chapter references NCIS ep. 3.4 (Silver War). Not really a spoiler, but thought I should mention it._

**Driving Lessons – Physics Style**

Her handler had told her that it would be an easy mission. Locate the scientist, set up an extraction and implement it. It was a task that she had completed several times in the four years since she had become a Mossad agent and Ziva David knew that she was skilled at extracting people with a minimum of fuss and peril. But as she tightened the makeshift bandage around her bleeding calf, Ziva recognised that her reputation was now shot.

Just like her.

Crouching behind some rubbish bins, Ziva quickly ducked her head around them to assess the situation. They had lost the two goons that had been chasing them but she knew that even though the coast was currently clear they must be nearby. She couldn't risk heading back to her car, it was now too far away for them to reach quickly. Spying another option across the street, Ziva made a snap decision and turned to the timid man crouched beside her.

"I don't suppose you know how to hot-wire a car?"

The man blinked owlishly back and replied in a hesitant tone "…actually, yes."

Ziva looked sideways in surprise as the scientist smiled bashfully and shrugged in a distinctly European way. "I had…interesting childhood."

"Great. We head over to there, smash the window, open the car, hotwire the thing and you drive us out of here."

"Why don't you drive? You are the rescuer!"

Checking her ammo clip, Ziva calmly replied "Three reasons. One, it is hard to drive with a bullet in your calf muscle. Two, I need to be free to shoot if we are followed. And three, the bad guys tend to shoot at the driver and I don't want to die just yet."

"Okay…I agree with one and two, but about point three…"

"Too late, let's go!"

With one arm draped over the shorter mans shoulders to help take the weight of her injured leg, her free hand clutched her firearm as they moved quickly to the parked car. Drawing her arm back, Ziva moved to smash in the drivers' window with the butt of the pistol, but was quickly halted by a cry from the scientist. "Wait!"

"What?!"

Blue eyes twinkling from hidden amusement, he grasped the handle and pulled the door open.

"Car is unlocked."

"Oh."

A sudden cry of "There! Down there!" interrupted any further embarrassment and sent both of them diving into the car. Knowing hands quickly freed the necessary wires and in a surprisingly short time the engine fired and the car was slammed into gear. As Ziva was thrown into the passenger window by the force of the cornering car, she noticed one of the goons pulling out a radio.

"They're calling for back-up. What did you do to them Dr Zelenka?"

Radek shrugged and replied "Is not what I did. Is what I didn't do. They wanted me to make better bombs for them. I said no. They threatened my brother and his family. Next thing I know, you appear in my lab and the strange men in bad suits shoot at me. I feel like I am living a spy novel."

In the side mirror Ziva caught sight of a black sedan pulling sharply out of a side street. She smirked to herself, thanking the predictability of the bad guys to pick a black car, then noticed the wound down window and caught sight of Radio Goon lining up a shot with his gun.

"Turn! Now!"

Radek yanked the wheel hard to the left, and instead of breaking sharply, he accelerated through the turn, somehow keeping all four wheels on the ground. The car shot down the windy and cobbled side road and rapidly exited onto a main street, neatly dodging two cars but almost colliding with an ice-cream van.

"Are they still following us?"

Ziva quickly scanned the traffic behind her, looking for the blatantly obvious black sedan. "No, they…dammit! They're a couple of cars back!"

"Hang on then. This will be tricky."

And with that Dr Zelenka managed to manoeuvre the car into an impossibly small gap in the traffic. Accelerating between two trucks that seemed intent on occupying the same lane, he then proceeded to cut right across two lanes of traffic and make a sharp turn, going the wrong way up a one-way street. Dodging oncoming cars, Radek seemed almost relaxed as he waved apologetically at the startled drivers.

"Where did you learn to drive like this?!"

"Is Physics. Calculate the speed of your vehicle against the speed of other vehicles. Factor in other driver response, as well as the speed that you can corner without rolling the car, and you are set. Plus, when I studied in Moscow for a little while, I earned money for food by driving a cab. If you want to live, you learn quickly how to drive like this."

Distracted by the squealing of brakes and the sound of shattering glass behind them, Ziva turned in her seat to look out the rear window. Catching a glimpse of a beaten and crumpled black sedan, the Radio Goon standing beside it and glaring at their departing car, Ziva started to relax for the first time since the retrieval had started. After a couple more corners, and a near miss with a moped, she felt secure enough to put away her gun.

"I think we're safe now. We should ditch the car and head to the safe house soon. There is a soccer game on at the stadium. If we leave the car there, it won't be reported as abandoned until late tonight. It not too hard to walk to the safe house from there. Your brother and his family are at the house, and when the fuss dies down you will be relocated somewhere safer."

"Much thanks, Agent David. If there is anything I can do for you for the help you have given today…"

"There is one thing Dr Zelenka. Can you teach me how to drive your way? I get the feeling it may help…"

_Three years later_

"…told him that I thought you were an Eastern European cab driver in a past life."

Ziva smiled to herself as Director Sheppard relayed her earlier conversation with Agent Gibbs.

_No, but I was taught by one._

TBC.

_AN2: So, this was where I was going to originally end the series, but then a review or two managed to kick-start my muse (temperamental cow that she is), and there will be a short tag scene coming in the near future. See you soon!_


	10. Epilogue

_AN1: Here it is, because you asked for it…. This chapter is dedicated to Knight of Avalon, rquestforme and ManicTater for demanding a sequel to chapter 3. _

**Comparing Markings – Story Tag**

As Timothy McGee entered the lab, he realised that even though the stereo was turned off, he could still hear a faint tune. Rounding the corner, he discovered the source of the tune sitting at her computer, engrossed in line after line of programming, humming absently.

"Abs. Abs! ABBY!"

Shocked aware by her shouted name, Abby jolted away from her computer and stared blankly at him.

"Huh? McGee? When did you get here?"

"Just now. So... working on hacking your pen-pal again?"

Abby widened her eyes in an obviously fake attempt at innocence. "McGee, what on earth would make you think that?"

"Abs, you were humming the 'Mission: Impossible' theme music."

Abby's innocent look faded into sheepishness and then morphed into righteous indignation. "Well, it's all Bob's fault. He set off my Hinky-O-Meter! And the when I tried to trace his email, I ended up going through NORAD of all places, so I had to abort the trace before scary guys in black suits tracked me down and threatened to put me in jail for breaching some weird National Security thing, and I would have had to make friends with my cellmate or else I would have been traded for cigarettes…"

"Abby, slow down. How many Caff-Pow's have you had today?"

"Two."

"…"

"Okay, five and a half, but I am serious. In his last message Bob said that he was working as an assistant to an archaeologist, so why would his email go through NORAD? It's just too weird."

"Bob? I thought his name was Murray?"

"Yeah, but I call him Bob. Do you have a problem with that McGee?"

Turning away from Abby's accusing glare, McGee scanned the screen looking for a distraction. "So, do you need my computer skills at all, or do you want me to be a cheerleading section while you hack it all on your own?"

"Sorry McGee, but its pleated skirt and pom-poms time for you. I've already set up a tracker that will trace where the email gets picked-up from, and I'm just waiting on the results. Last I saw, it was heading towards Colorado."

Both of them fixed their attention on the screen, anticipating the final destination of the trace.

"I still can't believe you sent him a picture of your new tattoo. I haven't even seen it yet"

"Keep up your whining Timmy and you never will. Besides I promised I would send him a photo. I edited it so he can't see exactly where it is."

"But you still don't know what kind of a person …trace is done!"

"See Timmy, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado. That's a NORAD facility. What does this guy do for NORAD? I have got to find his personnel file!"

As Abby turned determinedly to her keyboard, McGee had a moment of moral indecision before it was quickly squashed by his rampant curiosity and he grabbed the keyboard of the other linked computer.

"Maybe if you tried to …"

"I tried, McGee, it didn't work last time, but if we…"

"No that's too tricky, you'll have to try to dodge the …"

Tapping away furiously at the keyboard, both of them spoke in an abbreviated shorthand, holding entire conversations within half a sentence. As they tried to navigate their way through the multitude of firewalls and security barriers, Abby was firstly amazed, and then dismayed at the high level and the complexity of the security programme.

"C'mon Tim, they're tracking us down. We have to get out soon or the scary guys in the black suits…"

"Got something…copying it….done! I think I managed to get some personnel files!"

Quickly cutting their connection into the high-security system, Abby jumped up from her terminal and started punching the air in victory.

"Yes! We rock! Nothing can beat the wonder team of Sciuto and McGee!"

"Shouldn't that be McGee and Sciuto? Alphabetical makes sense…"

"Don't even try it Elflord, unless you want all of your private files downloaded into Tony's computer."

"Sciuto and McGee it is."

"McGee!"

Turning sharply at the barked command from the silver-haired agent standing in the doorway, McGee immediately started stammering.

"Boss, I…that is, we…um…we…"

Inwardly smirking at his ability to reduce his agents to guilty children, Gibbs kept his face blank as he demanded "What are you doing down here McGee? We're heading out in five minutes!"

"Hi Gibbs! I had to borrow McGee for a while, but we're done now so you can have him back. Hope I didn't break him!"

Realising that he now had no chance to look over the information that they had retrieved, McGee had to be satisfied with indicating to Abby that he wanted any news later as he followed Gibbs from the lab.

Smiling to herself, Abby turned back to the computer in order to peruse the appropriated files.

"Okay, here we go…wow, lots of marines. Marine Sgt Dobbs - nope, Marine Sgt Taylor - nope, Staff Sgt Harriman – nope, but kind of cute in a 'King of the Dweebs' way. Technician Silar – nope, but one hell of an injury record. How is he still alive? Huh, what kind of name is Teal'c …"

As the information from the personnel file filtered past her greedy eyes and into her disbelieving brain, Abby Sciuto could think of only one thing to say.

"…Holy Hannah."

_Meanwhile, back at Cheyenne Mountain._

"General Landry, Sir?"

"Yes Walter, what is it."

"Sir, we've been hacked again. It looks like it was the same person as last time."

"The strange girl who sent Teal'c a photo of her tattoo?"

"Yes sir. It looks like she managed to get past Dr McKay's new security features and download some information. Our people are still working on what she accessed."

"So what you're telling me is that this girl has managed to navigate her way past some of the strongest security measures known to man not once, but twice, and left us completely in the dark as to what she knows about the Stargate programme?"

"…Yes, sir."

"Why have we not recruited her yet?"

**THE END!!**

_AN2: And it's over (sobs in relief and disappointment). This was both the easiest and the hardest thing that I have ever written. Some of the characters were not what I had originally planned (John Sheppard originally didn't appear), and some of the scenarios where completely different (Jack and Kate was a lot less depressing the first time around). But it is done now, and I am happy with it - apart from the occasional spelling mistake. Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and I will have a new story starting up soon in the SG1 verse, so keep your eyes open!_

_Fred the Wraith Queen_


End file.
